Dick by Law (19 page)

Chapter 3
8

Horseshoe Bay, Bermuda

Simon and
Horne
were not in the best neighborhood. That much was obvious as they ran full-tilt through the
alleys and back streets
near
the garage.

Dark-skinned p
eople in shabby clothing milled on curbs and stoops, watching with
interest as Simon and
Horne
ran past.
Children played among litter and debris
, carr
ying things that were on fire.
Dogs barked all around, and
sullen,
mangy cats staggered from shadow to shadow. The houses,
so well-tended
else
where on the island, were run-down, rife with peeling paint and crumbled masonry and overgrown weeds and
graffiti
.
The smells of highly-spiced food
being cooked
intermingled with the sweet stench of rotting garbage and the occasional stink of raw feces.

If there could possibly be a par
t of Bermuda where an uprising might germinate, this was it.

Eager to reach safer ground, Simon
darted
around corners,
heading for the sound of traffic. With
Horne
at his heels, he finally emerged along a busy road
, facing a stream of headlights flowing past in both directions.

Without waiting to discuss
it, Simon spotted
a break in traffic and dashed across the road. As he plunged into the
brush and trees on the other side, he heard
Horne
crashing along behind him.

But
he heard no trace of
the sound
s
he dreaded most
:
the screeching tires of
P
oppa Free's van, the shouts of General M
obai, the gunshots of Poppa's soldiers. For the moment, at least, Simon and
Horne
's pursuers had not found them.

And the odds of not being found were improving, it seemed. Simon and
Horne
had gone from being dangerously exposed in a bad neigh
borhood to being hidden among trees in a stretch of roadside woods.
The sun was going down, and that would help hide them, too.

They charged through the forest in the deepening dusk, zigzagging
downhill
between trees and bushes and rocks. Simon ran blindly,
with no idea where he was,
trying
only
to put as much space
as he could
between
him and Mobai.

When he'd gone further, though, he
heard the pounding surf
up ahead
, and he knew he was
approaching
the ocean.
He felt a little better knowing that much; in theory, he could follow the shoreline all the way back
to the
Royal
H
otel in Hamilton.

Simon ran a little further, closing in on
the surf
,
and then he needed to stop. He doubled over with his hands on his knees, heaving for breath,
wiped out after running full-tilt for so long.

Horne
stopped beside him and leaned against a
tree
.
He didn't seem to be
anywhere near
as
wind
ed
as Simon
.
"We are so fucked."
Horne's voice was a low
, defeated
growl.

"We got...this far...didn't we?" said Simon.

"Those fuckers know this island inside out," said
Horne
. "They'll find us, all right. And then Mobai'll do to
us
what he did to that
other
poor son of a bitch."

"You want...to go back...and turn yourself in
? B
e my guest," said Simon. "But count me out."

Horne
hawked and spat on the ground. "I've never seen somebody killed in cold blood like that. I've never been that close to a murder."

Just then, Simon thought he heard something. He listened carefully and looked around for any trace of Poppa Free's crew. "We'd better get going.
They'll find us if we stay in one place for too long."

"They'll find us no matter
what
we do," said
Horne
. "It's a small fuckin' island."

Simon turned toward the sound of the surf. "There are plenty of resorts along the beach. We'll get help at one of them."

"From the
cops
?"
Horne
snorted. "What do you want to bet they're already looking for us? Poppa Free probably already tipped them off that
we're
the ones who killed that guy back in the garage,
not
Mobai."

"Shit." Simon hadn't thought of that. "Anybody ever tell you you're a real
downer
?"

"Then why are you so fucking
obsessed
with me?" The
harsh,
sarcastic tone was back in full bloom in
Horne
's
voice.

"I'm looking for help anyway." Simon started walking toward the beach. "Why don't you do what you
always
do and ride my
coattails
?"

"You know what I hope?" said
Horne
. "I hope they kill me
last
so I can hear you crying like a
pussy
when Mobai
guts
you."

Simon didn't answer. He set out at a fast walking pace, then kicked it up to a jog, aiming for the shore.

Horne
stayed
behind at first but eventually followed. He caught up just as Simon broke through the
treeline
at the top of the moonlit beach.

"Which way?" said
Horne
.

Simon looked left, then right. He saw no signs of life or danger in either direction
, just a ribbon of pink sand curling along
the shore
. "Split up. I go one way, you go the other. One of us is bound to escape."

"I can't believe I'm saying this."
Horne
rubbed his pharaoh beard with his thumb. "I think we should stay together."

"You think we'll have a better chance
of getting away if we
work together?
Like back at the garage, when we helped each other get untied?
"

"Fuck no."
Horne
laughed and started slogging through the sand. "But I'll be
damned
if I'm going to let you get back
ahead
of me
and be the first to
cash in
on this little escapade!"

Simon sighed and followed him.

 

*****

Chapter 3
9

130 Million Years Ago

China

Grip scurried through the
forest
at dawn
, racing along the trail of scent.
It was thickening, so he knew he was getting closer.
Any minute now, he would find the next killer dinosaur.

He couldn't wait. The blood of the first two he'd killed was still fresh on his lips
. He had a terrible hunger for more o
f the same
,
for more revenge against
the ones who'd slaughtered his mate and pups.

Four of the killers were still alive and
on the move. He'd tracked them from the place where he'd killed the first two, but t
hey'd split up;
forced to choose which of the four to follow,
he'd
picked
the one who
'd
made him the angriest, the one
who smelled most like his dead family
.

The one he saw when he pushed through a patch of ferns into a sun-dappled clearing
.

Grip froze
at the clearing's edge
, his red-tipped ears springing to full attention
. The dinosaur, a copper-colored female, seemed oblivious to his presence.

As Grip watched, the killer loped across the clearing to a gurgling brook. She bobbed
her head down, raising her tail, and lapped at the shimmering water with her fat, purple tongue.

Recognizing a perfect opportunity, Grip tensed
and crouched
, folding his ears back against the brown-and-white fur on his neck
.
His heart hammered, shooting blazing hot adrenaline through his body.

The dinosaur was perfectly positioned for an attack--head dipped down to Grip's level
, back turned, neck exposed. She was close enough that he might be able to reach her before she could run or retaliate.

But he had to act immediately. She could finish drinking and sprint away at any moment.

Grip knew he couldn't pass up this chance. He took a cautious step forward
, t
hen another.
The dinosaur did
n'
t react
to his movement.

Grip crouched, preparing to attack. The hair on his back stood on end. His tail lowered. His upper lip drew back in a silent snarl.

And then he charged.

Eyes fixed on the dinosaur, Grip hurtled full-tilt across the
misty
clearing. His prey stayed put, still lapping at the water, still perfectly positioned for his attack.

Grip could practically taste the dinosaur's blood as he raced toward it.
He saw the artery throb under her coppery hide, awaiting his teeth.

Then, suddenly, the dinosaur whipped her head around. She opened her jaws in his path, ready to snap him up and gulp him down.

Even as Grip scrambled to avoid that gaping maw, he realized he couldn't
get away in time. He was too close and moving too fast to dodge those slime-
c
overed fangs.

It was the death he'd been ready for since the start of his quest for revenge. He'd ignored
the
omens and warnings
--corpses along the way, darkness blotting out the sun in the middle of the day, the dying dog-thing telling him to "run away"
--and now death was about to devour him.

He only wished he'd gotten to the other killers before the end.

Eyes wild, feet scuffling, Grip skidded forward in the dirt. The mighty jaws loomed over him, about to clamp down.

And then they didn't.

Suddenly, something struck Grip from behind, and he went flying. Yelping, he spun through the air and bounced off a tree, ending up on his back in the brook.

Grip thrashed in the water
in a flurry of panic, kicking and twisting until he managed to flop over on his belly. He sprang to his feet and shook himself furiously,
spraying water from his fur in all directions.

Finally,
he stopped and looked around. It was only then that he understood what had happened.

The copper-skinned female stood along the brook, glaring at him. Her eyes glittered like crystals, and
streams of
saliva dribbled from her lips.

A short distance away stood another dinosaur of the same breed, a male. He was bigger than she was, and his hide was gray with red splotches.

Like the female, he stank of Grip's dead family. He was one of the killers.

Grip stared, shivering. Somehow, when he'd found the lone female, he'd missed the second killer's scent. Maybe he'd been too focused on
killing the female and had blocked out everything else.

Or maybe, the dinosaurs had trapped him. He knew they were smart enough to do it. Maybe the female had been the bait, and the male had stayed downwind until the right moment.

Not that it mattered how it had happened. Grip's only concern now was escape. Facing the two killers
without the element of surprise, he knew
there was no way he could beat them. His only chance was to turn tail and run, then stalk them later when he could catch them off-guard.

T
he two dinosaurs stepped forward, lashing their foreclaws threateningly. Grip crept back
across the brook
, never taking his eyes off them. Preparing.

Then, he flipped around, turning his back on them, ready to run for his life.

And he froze
b
efore taking a ste
p.

He
found himself
staring at a pair of hind legs. The hind legs of a dinosaur.

A third dinosaur
of the same breed as the other two.

Grip sniffed the newcomer's scent as he looked up at the full height of his body. He couldn
'
t mistake the traces of his mate and pups
.

The third dinosaur was another of the killers
, a
nother who'd managed to mask his presence from Grip until now.

So Grip
'
s escape route was gone.
He was surrounded by three of the killer dinosaurs who'd slaughtered his family. This time,
they
had the element of surprise on their side.

And Grip knew they could smell
the scent of their
dead kin
, the ones he'd murdered,
on his whiskers.

 

*****